Elizabeth’s POV
The cleaner’s number had finally gone through, and she assured me that May was stable. The doctor had stopped by, checked her vitals, and advised rest and proper nutrition. Nothing life-threatening. Nothing close to what my racing heart had conjured.
But I was still worried.
So, when we stepped into Sebastian’s penthouse, soaked from worry and the earlier rain, what I saw felt like a punch to the gut.
May.
Perched like a damn queen on the cream velvet sofa. One leg crossed lazily over the other, a wine glass poised in her hand, her lips stained the same shade of red as her nails. Her cleavage was on full display, like her shirt had lost a few too many buttons on the way here.
She didn’t look sick. Or weak. Or anything close to what the word “unconscious” might suggest.
She looked.... annoyed.
“Elizabeth,” she said flatly, barely hiding the distaste curling around her name. Her eyes flicked to Sebastian, then back to me. “Didn’t expect you to be tagging along.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Sebastian was silent beside me.
“I thought you were......” I started.
“What?” she cut in with a soft laugh. “I just passed out for a second. Overworked. Probably stress.” She waved the wine glass, like the sight of her stretched-out on his sofa in lingerie and silk was perfectly normal. “But I’m much better now.”
I didn’t miss the way her leg uncrossed, then re-crossed slower, deliberate. Or how her voice softened when she turned to him again. “You came quickly though, Sebastian. I wasn’t expecting that.”
My stomach twisted.
She had called him here. Not because she was unwell. But because she wanted him.
It wasn’t a cry for help, it was a damn booty call.
Sebastian didn’t move. His jaw ticked, but he said nothing.
I took a slow breath. “So you’re fine?”
May sipped her wine and gave me a shrug. “Perfectly.”
“Then I’ll leave.”
I turned, grabbing the doorknob before I lost the last shred of dignity holding my spine upright.
“Elizabeth,” Sebastian called behind me.
But I didn’t stop.
Not even when May’s laughter trailed behind me, light and amused.
“Maybe knock next time, sweetheart,” she purred. “You wouldn’t want to walk in on something you’re not ready to see.”
____
I went outside, but that's when I realized that I would need a ride back, and it was still raining like crazy. I stood there near the gates, biting my fingernails, contemplating what to do next.
Gosh, I had no umbrella. No taxis. And not enough pride left to turn around and ask for a ride.
My phone screen was foggy, the signal bar pathetically blinking.
I hated how I could still hear her laugh in my ears. How casual she had been, draped over his furniture like she belonged there, like I was the intruder.
A clap of thunder rolled overhead. I blinked up at the sky, biting harder.
Why did it sting so much?
I had told myself this wasn’t real. I had told myself Sebastian wasn’t mine to want. But the sight of her, so comfortable in his home, in his world, made me feel like a stupid little girl chasing fantasies with bruised knees.
My heart jerked when the gates clicked open behind me. Footsteps.
“Elizabeth,” his voice cut through the sound of the rain. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get back in.”
I didn’t turn. “I’m not going back in there. She’s your wife.”
“I explained my arrangement with your mother, Elizabeth.”
“She’s in your clothes. In your house. Drinking your wine. You showed up the moment she snapped her fingers. If that’s not a wife, then I don’t know what is.”
He came up beside me, not touching, just close enough that the heat from his body pulled mine in.
"Come inside at least, spend the night here. I can't drive under this rain and I can't let you leave under this rain either.
I wanted to be stubborn to say something, but as if on cue, lightning hit the ground a few inches from where I stood. He didn't even flinch but I already grabbed at my wet shoes and ran in.
"Just one night, thank you."
He closed the door behind me, a chuckle escaping his lips.
"You seem to say that frequently these days." He leaned in, "just one night."
I got the memo, my cheeks involuntarily heating up. I wanted to ask him to quit it. But May interrupted me before I could get a word out.
"You haven't left yet?" The disappointment in her tone was obvious.
Her voice slithered from the living room like a snake slipping through silk.
I didn’t even look her way. I was dripping water onto the marble floors, freezing from the cold.
Sebastian stepped around me, his hand briefly brushing the small of my back before he moved forward. It was small. Barely even a touch. But it grounded me.
“I told her to stay the night,” he said flatly.
May let out a small scoff. “Of course you did.”
“May,” Sebastian warned,
“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I just find it interesting that I black out, possibly from stress or exhaustion, and suddenly your little student, my daughter, shows up like some.....stray cat you just had to bring in.”
I turned to her now. Slowly. “The only reason I came was because the cleaner said you were unconscious. I was worried. Foolishly, as it turns out.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Touching.”
“Sebastian,” I said, already highly irritated, “Where’s the guest room?”
He nodded toward the left hallway. “Second door. Fresh sheets.”
I gave him a grateful glance and turned to go, not sparing May another word.
But her parting shot still found its mark.
“You always did want what was mine, Elizabeth.”
I paused mid-step.
"If this is about your past boyfriends, I was never interested in any of those pigs,"
She rolled her eyes and sipped from her cup.
"Some days I wish that you didn't even have me." My tone was bitter.
She was never there for me, broke the only one who was, abandoned him, even caused his death. And I hated the part of me that still cared about her.
"I should've went through with that abortion when I had the chance"
I turned to her. My nails digging into my palm.